The Perfect Gift
by White Mizerable
Summary: America is worried after not seeing England at the Christmas party. But when he comes home, he finds that someone has given him exactly the gift to get his mind off of it. USUK Secret Santa fic. Rated M for a reason!


It was almost three o'clock in the morning when Alfred stumbled through the front door of his house. He kicked off his sneakers with a yawn, barely noticing as one of them struck and scuffed the wall. Vaguely, he wondered what Arthur would do if he had been there to see it. Probably punch him in the arm and tell him off for being so messy.

Speaking of Arthur… Alfred's eyebrows furrowed. He hadn't seen the Brit once during the annual Christmas party. Not that he was actually searching the room for Arthur or anything like that. Of course not. It was just that those huge eyebrows were kind of hard to miss. And even if it was blatantly obvious that Arthur didn't really like going to those parties, he was too much of a self-titled gentleman to decline. There'd been an abundance of alcohol, too, which made Arthur's no-show even more confusing. He'd brought up the matter to Francis- casually, very casually, of course, because he wasn't worried or anything- but the Frenchman hadn't known any more than he did.

Another yawn pushed its way past Alfred's lips, and he decided to let the whole thing lie until he woke up. It was way too late to be worried about something that would probably turn out to have a totally logical explanation. Arthur was probably drunk at his house, or moping around with Gilbert, who hadn't been invited to the party after last year's fiasco. Yeah, they were most likely drinking at Ludwig's place, laughing and being close and… and… Alfred swallowed down the knot that formed in his throat at the thought of what exactly they could be doing. It wasn't like he cared about Arthur's sex life. Not at all. He was just hopelessly in love with the older nation, nothing important.

Fuck. Alfred rubbed at his eyes under his glasses. This was not the time to be thinking about that. He just needed to go to sleep, and it would be all better in the morning. With his mind focused entirely on that idea, he made his way towards the stairs. Just as he put his foot on the first step, though, he paused. He could have sworn he heard a noise coming from the living room…

"Tony?" he called cautiously, because that's who it had to be. Either that or a ghost, and Alfred was sincerely hoping that it wasn't the latter. But there was no response. "Tony? Is that you?"

Still no response, so Alfred began creeping towards the living room doorway. He poked his head around the frame. There didn't seem to be anything there, just his furniture, the fireplace covered in decorations, the towering Christmas tree he'd smothered with decorations, an enormous gift-wrapped box, the plate of cookies for Tino-

Wait. An enormous gift-wrapped box? Alfred shuffled over to it. Yeah, it had definitely not been in his house before he left for the party. Maybe Tino had come earlier, when he'd been out? No- the tag hanging from the flamboyantly puffy red ribbon said it was from Francis. Alfred groaned. Damn, what had that pervert gotten him this year? For the last few years, all he'd received from Francis were handcuffs and dildos. Which he hadn't even touched other than picking them up to throw them into his closet. Which he'd then locked. And hidden the key.

Right then, the box shuddered slightly, and Alfred once again heard the muffled sound from earlier. The American's eyes widened. Francis had gotten him something alive? But there were no air holes in the box! Alfred immediately began tearing the paper off the box, mentally berating the older nation. How could he be so careless? Whatever the thing was, it could have died!

Alfred ripped the cover off the box and stared down into it, expecting to see some kind of kitten or puppy. Instead, he found himself looking at two large eyebrows, and then into a pair of very startled and very annoyed green eyes. The lid fell out of suddenly numb fingers. "A-Arthur?"

The Brit's eyes widened in horror, all the color draining from his face. He looked like he desperately wanted to say something, but the length of red ribbon covering his mouth was blocking the words from getting through. He glared up at Alfred, twisting his pale shoulders to show the ribbon holding his hands behind his back.

Fingers trembling, Alfred reached down to undo the ribbon from Arthur's mouth. They fumbled to find the knot on the back of his head, accidentally sliding upwards into short, soft hair. Hair that he suddenly wanted nothing more than to use as leverage to get Arthur's mouth against his own. Alfred swallowed heavily. Fuck.

Finally, the knot came undone, and Arthur spat the ribbon out onto the bottom of the box. "That fucking frog, I can't believe he'd do something this perverted. Drugging me and tying me up like that! I bet that filthy wanker coped himself a feel, too. Honestly, he's such…"

Alfred was just barely hearing the words, because he had just noticed what Arthur was wearing. Or, more accurately, wasn't wearing. The Brit was missing any kind of regular clothing, and was instead almost completely nude. All that was covered was his vital regions, and even they were almost showing beneath the small amount of ribbon layered over his hips. The pale torso above and the smooth legs below the covering were perfectly shaped, and Alfred couldn't tear his eyes off of them. Arthur was- Arthur was-

"Alfred? Alfred, are you even listening to me?"

Arthur was talking to him. Right. Alfred gave the older nation a weak grin and hoped he hadn't noticed how the American's lower body was reacting to the sight. "Sorry. I'm, uh, just a little tired."

"Pay attention, you git," Arthur huffed. "My body hurts from being stuck in here so long. Get me out, would you?" And he shifted himself in just such a way that one of the ribbons on his hip slid down enough to give Alfred a great view of sensually pale skin.

A low moan tore its way out of Alfred's throat, which he just barely managed to change into a noise of acquiescence. Arthur gave him an odd look. "Are you feeling quite alright? You look a bit off."

"I'm fine. Just tired." Alfred tried to focus on something other than Arthur's gorgeous body, and found himself instead drawn into the Brit's eyes. They were so deep, so green, and damn if Alfred didn't get out of there soon the box wasn't going to be the only reason for Arthur's body hurting. Still, the younger nation reached down to scoop Arthur into his arms and out of the box.

Arthur squeaked. "I didn't mean like that, you idiot! Put me down, now!" He struggled against Alfred's grip, his tied hands not allowing him to do much, and causing his somewhat exposed behind to nearly hit the tent now apparent in the younger's jeans. Arthur didn't notice. Alfred most certainly did.

Without any apology, Alfred dumped his burden onto the couch and turned away. His face was flushed with embarrassment and arousal. He needed to get out of there, and _now_. He turned towards the kitchen, all ready to flee the room.

"Where the bloody fuck do you think you're going?" Arthur snapped before he could leave. He shook his shoulders, demonstrating once again that his hands were bound. "Untie me before you go eat your disgusting hamburgers!"

"Damn," Alfred breathed. His body was aching from the stimulation it was receiving. Still, he turned back around to kneel in front of Arthur, right between the older nation's splayed knees. "Bend forward," he commanded hoarsely.

Frowning, Arthur did so. The sides of their faces touched, and the Brit jerked away. "H-hurry up."

"I'm trying," Alfred growled back, his hands unsuccessfully tugging on the knot. Arthur's breath was warm against his neck. In an effort to distract himself from their current proximity, he asked the first thing that he could think of. "Why did Francis give you to me for Christmas, anyway?"

Arthur tensed. "I- I wouldn't know," he choked out. "H-he likely thinks that you're just as perverted as he is." He laughed nervously at the end of the sentence.

"Lean c-closer," Alfred mumbled, his body trembling as Arthur did so. Their chests were pressed together now, and if the Brit got any closer, he would definitely feel Alfred's prominent erection- and wait, were those hard nubs Arthur's nipples? "The knot's r-really tight."

"That filthy bastard," Arthur tried to snap, but it came out more of a breathy groan. Alfred bit his lip to contain a moan at the sound. The older nation didn't notice. "The f-frog probably expects you to have y-your way with me or something."

The knot fell away beneath Alfred's fingers, freeing Arthur's hands. "There," Alfred murmured, pulling away very, very slightly. His hands didn't seem to want to leave Arthur's back, though. They slid up and down the smaller man's spine, feeling each ridge.

"What are you doing?" Arthur whispered, pulling away from those firm hands and pressing himself back against the couch. His eyes were darkened, but not with fear. They were-

"It's Christmas," Alfred murmured, leaning forward so that their faces were only centimeters apart.

"W-What does that have to do with this?" Arthur replied, his breath ghosting across Alfred's lips.

In reply, Alfred pressed himself forward, so that his erection was crushed against the ribbons covering Arthur's pelvis. The older nation let out a loud moan. He wasn't quite as hard as Alfred was, but was definitely getting there. "A-Alfred-"

"It's Christmas," Alfred repeated, panting at the contact. "Francis gave you to me as a Christmas gift. Can I open you now?"

"W-what?" Arthur's eyes slid shut as Alfred rubbed against him. "O-oh god…"

"Can I open you?"

Arthur took in a deep breath and opened one eye as the question sank in. The other eye opened in shock. "Are you… Are you asking permission?" Alfred just stared back at him, still breathing heavily. Arthur reached up to run a hand down the side of the younger nation's face. "Alfred…"

"I love you." The words were out of Alfred's mouth before he could think them. Arthur literally stopped breathing beneath him. "I- I mean it. I really love you."

For what seemed like hours, but was really only seconds, they sat there staring at each other. The older nation finally exhaled harshly, eyes wide. "Is this… some sort of joke?"

Alfred shook his head violently. "No! I wouldn't joke about this. I mean it. I love you." He ran one hand over the curve of Arthur's cheek. "I love you."

"Really?" Arthur whispered, and something in his eyes made Alfred's chest tighten with emotion. "This isn't a joke?"

"Never." Leaning in to place a kiss on the smaller man's forehead, Alfred mumbled, "I've loved you for so long. You have no idea how long I've wanted this."

"I think I do, actually." Arthur let out a watery chuckle. "All these years, Alfred- I never thought- Why didn't you tell me earlier?"

"You hated me," the younger nation said simply. "I didn't want us to go back to not even talking to each other."

"Hated you? Oh, you bloody idiot!" With no further warning, Arthur looped his arms around Alfred's neck and yanked him down into a searing kiss. Taken off guard, Alfred let the older nation's tongue slip inside his mouth. He didn't allow himself to be dominated for long, though. He tangled his fingers in Arthur's hair, tilting the shorter man's head back in order to push their dueling tongues into Arthur's mouth.

They kissed like that, desperately passionate, until the need for air overwhelmed them. Arthur pulled away first, his cheeks flushed and lips swollen, but he didn't release his grip on the taller man's shoulders. Alfred grinned at him, breathing heavily. "So I take it you don't actually hate me?"

Arthur rolled his eyes, a smile quirking up the sides of his lips. "Of course not. In fact, I do believe you could say that I love you."

"Good." Alfred kissed him again, softer this time. "I was hoping you did."

"I know the feeling." Arthur slid his hands down Alfred's shoulders, over strong arms, until they met with the younger nation's hands. Their fingers entwined together. Arthur let out a short breath. "Open me."

"What?"

"It's Christmas, isn't it? I thought I was your Christmas present." Arthur guided their connected hands until they were both pressed over the ribbons covering his vital regions. He let out a low groan at the feeling, and shot Alfred a sultry look beneath half-closed eyelids. "Open me."

Alfred's eyes narrowed predatorily. "I thought you'd never ask," he growled, tugging his hands out of Arthur's grasp in favor of sliding them up the back of the ribbons and grabbing the Brit's firm bottom. Arthur gasped, arching his back off of the couch, inadvertently pressing his chest against the taller man's. "So you're sensitive back here, are you?" Alfred asked with a smirk, squeezing the flesh.

"Unh! Ye-Yes!" Arthur managed to moan, writhing beneath Alfred's teasing hands. He hooked his legs around Alfred's waist and ground his erection against the American's. Reaching up with one hand, he grabbed a handful of caramel blonde hair and pulled the younger nation into another passionate kiss.

Alfred pulled away almost immediately. "Uh-uh, Arthur, you're _my_ present. That means I'm in control here." He turned his head to bite down on the side of Arthur's neck, provoking a sensual moan from the smaller man. As he continued covering that pale skin with kisses and bite marks, Alfred let go of the Brit's rump with one hand to start untying the ribbons constraining his erection. He squeezed the firm flesh again with the hand that remained, grinning at the strangled groan it tore from Arthur's throat. "You're so hot."

"St-stop teasing me!" Arthur's face was flushed bright red, his mouth hanging open, moisture building up at the corners of his eyes. "Please, Alfred, just-" He interrupted himself with another moan as Alfred ran his hand over his arse. The ribbons covering his hips fell away, revealing his lower body to Alfred's hungry eyes.

"Just what?" the younger nation murmured, biting down on Arthur's lower lip. "What do you want me to do, Arthur?" He slid the hand that had been fondling Arthur's behind down into the cleft of his arse, teasing the Brit's entrance with a finger.

Arthur's eyes slipped closed, his eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks. "Th-this. Keep going!" His hips bucked down slightly, impaling himself on the tip of Alfred's finger. "O-oh!"

Smirking, Alfred pressed his finger in a little further. "You want it like this? No lube?" A little voice nagged at the back of his head that it would be harder this way, and that it might actually hurt, but he pushed it aside in favor of staring down at Arthur's aroused face.

One green eye opened and glared up at Alfred in irritation. "Just do it already!" Arthur pushed himself down until the finger that had been teasing him was sheathed deep inside him. He threw his head back against the couch, moaning. "F-fuck…"

"Arthur? Are you alright?" Very carefully, Alfred shifted both of them so that Arthur was lying sprawled out on the couch underneath him. "I'll go get lube." He started to draw his finger out.

"Don't you dare," Arthur growled, somehow managing to look both utterly submissive and completely terrifying at the same time. He wrapped his legs tighter around Alfred. "You are going to do me right here, right now, and you are not going to leave me on the bloody couch for fucking lube!"

Alfred raised an eyebrow. "What did I say before, Arthur? You're my present, and when I do you is up to me." He leaned down to nuzzle his nose against Arthur's, grinning at the scowl directed his way. "I guess if you don't want lube, though, we don't need to use it." He punctuated the statement by pressing another finger inside Arthur's entrance.

"O-oh god!" The older nation bucked his hips upwards, eyes rolling back in his head. His hole tightened around Alfred's fingers.

"Thanks, Artie, but you don't have to call me god." Alfred scissored his fingers inside that tight heat. He couldn't help wondering how it would feel around his cock. "You feel so good…"

Arthur made some kind of babbled noise, reaching up blindly to tug Alfred into a kiss. The younger nation quickly dominated it, pressing Arthur's willing body down into the couch cushions. Alfred pressed a third finger into that smaller body, and nibbled at the sides of Arthur's lips as the Brit groaned and writhed beneath him. He wiggled his fingers just a little, and Arthur abruptly broke away from the kiss with a breathy scream. Grinning, Alfred did it again, and was rewarded with the same sound. "Are you ready for me?" he whispered into a pale ear.

"Wanker," Arthur moaned. He wound his arms around Alfred's neck, pulling the taller man down so that he could slide Texas off of his face. He placed them on the floor with trembling fingers. "I've been ready for you for centuries."

Alfred's heart thudded heavily against his chest. He swallowed, staring down at Arthur, who looked somewhat blurry without his glasses but still beautiful. "I love you," he murmured, kissing the Brit's forehead. "I love you so much."

Smiling, Arthur trailed his fingers through Alfred's hair. "I love you, too. More than you could ever know." His hand left the younger nation's hair and traveled down to the front of his jeans, where it set to work unbuttoning and unzipping them. "Now hurry up and get on with it." His fingers slipped into Alfred's boxers and grabbed the hard flesh they found inside.

A half-gasp, half-moan tore itself from Alfred's throat. "Someone's impatient," he hissed, tugging Arthur's hand away from his cock. "But I guess, since I love you so much, I can speed things up a little bit." He pulled his three fingers out of Arthur's entrance, grinning at the noise of protest that the smaller man made. Aligning his erection with Arthur's stretched hole, he slowly began pushing himself inside.

Just as he'd thought, the lack of lube made it much harder to get inside, even with all of the preparation he'd given Arthur's entrance. The Brit let out a strangled sob of pain, the walls of his arse tightening around Alfred's cock. "Oh fuck!" the American breathed, stopping his forward push. His arms trembled from the effort it took to hold himself still. "Artie, Artie, you've got to relax. It's going to hurt if you don't."

"I- I can't!" Arthur sobbed. "It hurts, it fucking hurts!"

"Fuck." Alfred let his head drop down to Arthur's shoulder, pressing soothing kisses against the flushed skin. "I knew we should have gotten lube. I'm going to pull out, Arthur, hold on-"

"No!" Even through the tears of pain trickling down his face, Arthur glared fiercely up at the taller man. "I said I didn't want lube. That was my choice! I- I still want to do this with you."

"Are you sure?" Alfred lifted his head just enough to stare into the deep green of Arthur's eyes. "I don't want to hurt you- Arthur, you're crying. I can't do this to you-"

"It doesn't hurt as much anymore," Arthur murmured, shifting his hips. "Alfred, I don't want to stop. I want- I want you to make love to me. Don't just have sex. Don't fuck me. Make love to me." He kissed Alfred softly. "Please."

"Arthur…" A gentle smile was creeping its way over Alfred's lips. "Is this what you want? Really?" He kissed Arthur's cheeks, his lips, his eyelids. That smile bloomed when the Brit nodded. "I'll make love to you, Arthur. It'll be so good you'll never even look at another guy again."

"You're daft if you think I've ever looked at another man like this. I've had sex before, Alfred, with many people." Arthur's eyelashes fluttered coyly over his eyes. "I've never made love before."

"Then I'll be your first." Alfred licked his partner's neck with a grin. "I'll be your first and your best."

"You'll be my only," Arthur growled, and, using his legs, pulled Alfred's cock into him until it was completely sheathed. The older nation clenched his eyes shut, groaning.

Alfred let out a moan, body tensing. "You feel so great, Artie. You're so hot… Love you so much, so much!" His hips were struggling to keep from thrusting into that tight heat.

"Unh, l-love you," Arthur replied breathlessly. He dug his nails into Alfred's shoulders. "M-move!"

So Alfred did. He tried to be slow and gentle at first, but Arthur didn't seem to want that, judging by his harsh cries of 'harder' and 'faster'. Gradually, the speed picked up, until Alfred was practically ramming Arthur into the couch cushions. Somehow, even though it was possibly the roughest, most violent consensual sex either of them had ever experienced, every movement was sensual and loving. Alfred's animalistic grunts were the most romantic sounds Arthur had ever heard, and the Brit's wild cries and moans were sexier than anything the American could have imagined. They were moving as one, fused together where Alfred's cock was impaling Arthur. The couch shook beneath them, rocking and creaking along with each move they made. Words of love were interchanged regularly. And when they came, they came together, screaming out each others' names as they were connected in the most intimate of ways.

Arthur's head fell back against the cushions as he gasped for breath. Sweat rolled down his body, mingling with the cum on his stomach. "Oh god… That was- That was-"

"Awesome?" Alfred suggested, leaning down to kiss Arthur slowly, sensually. The smaller nation responded lazily, his tired body beginning to shut down for the night. Alfred pulled away to smile at him. "I love you, you know."

"I know, you git," Arthur replied quietly, a smirk tugging at his lips. "I love you too." His eyes slipped shut. "Happy Christmas, Alfred."

"Merry Christmas, Arthur." Alfred rolled them over so that Arthur was stretched out atop his chest. "This was the best Christmas ever," he muttered into the Brit's ear.

Arthur chuckled, though his eyes stayed closed. "I was a bloody good gift, if I do say so."

"Best gift ever!" Alfred agreed. He hesitated slightly, tightening his grip around Arthur's body. The question was stupid, and he knew it, but it wouldn't stop nagging at him. "If I go to sleep now, will you still be here in the morning?"

One green eye flickered open. "Oh, Alfred." He blindly kissed the younger nation's neck. "I'm not going anywhere. Go to sleep."

Alfred grinned, allowing his eyelids to slip down over his eyes. "I love you."

"I know," Arthur murmured. "And I love you too."

"G'night, Arthur."

"Good night, Alfred."

The house was silent, save for the slow, steady breathing of the two men together on the couch. When Tino came down the chimney later, he broke into a grin at the sight of them. He silently deposited the two presents he'd brought under the tree. They were good presents, ones he'd put a lot of thought into. But Francis had definitely been a better Santa this year. Tino blushed. Maybe next year, Francis would help him with Berwald… He disappeared back up the chimney.

And no creature was stirring, not even a mouse.


End file.
